Hers
by blue252
Summary: "He was finally, finally hers." Because everyone enjoys a little jealous Beckett. Based off spoilers for 5x02 found in the TV Guide article. Oneshot.


**AN: **This is a spoiler fic based off of a TV Guide article and a few other random spoilers about episode 5x02. So, if you don't like spoilers, this is your warning :) But if you're addicted to spoilers like me, I hope that you will enjoy! Oh, and to anyone who is keeping up with my multi-chap fic "The Boy with the Broken Halo" sorry if it seems like long for updates. I'm in the middle of moving and don't have internet. I wrote this on a total writing binge on wireless from Barnes & Noble last night and now! I'll do my best to get an update out this weekend! Without further ado...

**Disclaimer: **MONDAY NIGHT GUYS! WE'VE ALMOST MADE IT!

* * *

**Hers**

"_love being such, or such,  
the normal corners of your heart  
will never guess how much  
my wonderful jealousy is dark"_

_-ee cummings_

He knows as soon as he finally caves and agrees to it, that this is _so_ _not_ a good idea. Four torturously long years of wanting and waiting for Kate Beckett and now that they've actually made it past foreplay, she's asking him to ask someone _else_ out? They haven't even had a proper first date.

Maybe he was old fashioned but this wasn't exactly how he pictured the beginning of their relationship. Not that anything about their relationship had ever been what one could call normal. But if it were up to him he'd be showing up on her doorstep with flowers, taking her to dinner, holding her hand, and walking her to her door at the end of the night, hoping she'd invite him for "coffee". Because that's what a man does at the beginning of a relationship with the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with. And damn, that's exactly what he wanted.

With anyone else he'd be terrified of that realization so soon. Except he wasn't. Not with Kate. And it wasn't really soon, if he thought about it. He'd known for years that if she ever gave him the chance, she was it for him. He'd do everything in his power to make it work. To give her _always._

But here they were, once again in the middle of a big, fat secret. He understood the necessity of keeping things quiet. He wanted more than anything to be able to work with Kate at the precinct. They couldn't risk Gates finding out about them. And sure, he couldn't lie…it _was_ sort of exciting. He'd even thought it'd be fun when they'd first decided that they should keep things between them for a while.

This new thing between them, it was…electrifying, to say the least. Everything he'd ever loved about Kate in the past- her wit, her charm, the way she teased, it was all magnified. Everything he'd ever wanted and more. Because now there was give _and_ take.

The spark had turned into a flame that coursed through them, never dulling, only igniting until it couldn't be contained. They'd crash into his or her apartment, sometimes not even making it past the door, before she was wrapping those sinfully long legs around his waist, both equally impatient and wholly aroused.

The first few days at the precinct were the longest of his life. He had to constantly force his hands into fists at his sides as to not reach out and touch her. He was convinced she was purposely trying to test his willpower, wearing white button ups that reminded him of her in _his_ white button, up all tanned legs and tousled hair. Which in turn reminded him of how he'd _removed_ that same white button up. And he wanted nothing more than to tug her into the interrogation room and pin her up against the table. Show her just how she was affecting him.

So yes, in some ways it was thrilling, that air of secrecy. Knowing that they could look but not touch. Could tease and banter but not follow through until the long days were over.

But there were moments that he simply wished to be able to reach out and squeeze her hand when he knew she was stressed over a case. Or to place a kiss on her cheek when he greeted her. Hell, just to be able to walk into the precinct together in the morning instead of coordinating times and pretending that they weren't arriving from the same location most days.

Yeah, he was totally the girl in this relationship.

Which brought him back into the current mess. Kate was adamant that he go on this date. The bigger the publicity of it, the better. _ "It's the perfect cover for us, Castle."_

But he _really_ didn't want to. Old Castle would have laughed at himself. Girlfriend okays date with attractive journalist…score. It was just a complete joke he'd made when they'd first met the woman during their investigation. An offhand comment after the woman spent their entire interrogation trying to flirt with him, ignoring Kate's questions.

It just didn't feel right though. He didn't want anyone else. Not even for a stupid publicity stunt. He'd spent so long waiting for Kate, wanting what they had, wanting _her_, that he didn't want to waste a minute of that time on someone else. Even if she was attractive.

He found himself comparing everything. Her hair was way too dark. Her eyes were blue, not hazel. Her voice was high and whiny. Even her name was irritating…_Kristina Coterra._ Like she was trying way too hard to be a Kardashian.

But Kate had jumped on the idea. He'd protested, tried to explain that he hadn't meant it at all, just thought it'd be funny to see her reaction. But she said it was the perfect plan. That she trusted him…knew that he only wanted her. And that they really needed this. Lanie had been pestering her about having a "sex glow" and she was afraid people would catch on if it didn't look like Castle was out doing his own thing.

Apparently it needed to look like he was _doing_ someone else.

So here he was, begrudgingly putting on a button up dress shirt, getting ready for the date. Oddly enough, Kristina had told him she'd pick _him_ up for dinner. He honestly could have cared less. The quicker this was over with, the better.

He glanced at the clock. It was only 7:00. He sighed. That meant he had over an hour to kill. Maybe…just maybe he could convince Kate to come over for a little while beforehand. And if he was lucky, she'd find a way to _distract_ him. That brought a smile to his face as he shot her a quick text and pocketed his phone.

Humming to himself, he walked to the kitchen and started up his coffee machine so that he'd have a cup waiting on Beckett when she arrived. He was startled by a knock at the door.

Geez, that was quick. She must have already been in his neighborhood.

Castle padded his way across the kitchen, pulling the door open only to be greeted with the image of Kristina Cottera, wrapped in some kind of loose, entirely too short, flowing dress. Not exactly dinner appropriate.

He forced himself to smile, schooling his features to appear as though he wasn't completely shocked to see her standing there.

"Hi Rick," she practically purred. "Care to invite me in for a drink before dinner?"

"Uhh…yeah sorry, come in," he fumbled over his words and backed away from the door, allowing her entry.

She ran her hand along his arm as she passed and he had to force himself not to recoil at her touch.

Everything about this screamed _wrong_ to him. What the hell was going to happen with Kate showed up? This was _so_ not good. It was one thing to take someone to dinner, let the paparazzi snap a few pictures. It was another to have this clearly overzealous journalist in his loft, trying to get him drunk before they even left.

"Mind if I use your bathroom?" he heard her ask, interrupting his nervous thoughts.

"Yeah, just around the corner, over there," he said, pointing.

_Shit._

He mixed two (_very weak_) vodka cranberries and took them over to the couch, waiting for her to come back. Hopefully she'd be satisfied with one drink and he could get them out of here as quickly as possible.

He was just reaching into his pocket for his phone to text Kate again, a warning that Kristina was already over, when he nearly dropped the device on the floor.

Emerging from down the hall was the journalist, no longer in her dress. _No longer dressed_, for that matter, wearing only a skimpy black bikini, tall black heels, and blood red lipstick.

He gaped at her, all words departing his brain. What in the _hell_ was he going to do now?

Before he could speak she was in front of him, leaning over. He desperately tried to avert eyes from her chest and made a move to get up, suddenly wanting nothing more than to throw the rest of her clothing at her and shove her out of the door before this could get any more out of control.

But midway off the couch she reached out and shoved him backward, keeping her hands glued to his chest.

"What, what are you doing?" he gasped out in shock.

"What I've wanted to do ever since I saw you, Rick Castle," she said grinning, predatory, eyes dark and flashing hungrily at him.

"What I _thought_ you wanted to do…" she continued, pinning him effectively to the couch, legs straddling his knees.

He closed his eyes, praying that this was some kind of bizarre nightmare that he could block out. But then he felt her hands, unbuttoning his shirt. _Whoa, no, no, no, this could not be happening._

"Kristina, wait!" he cried.

She just smirked at him and ripped his shirt open, sending buttons scattering across the floor, despite his protests and dropped herself into his lap, pressing her lips to his cheek.

"No, no, we can't do this," he practically yelled, preparing himself to have to shove her off of him.

At that exact moment, the door to his loft flew open. He jumped at the noise, looking across the room to see a raging Kate Beckett, gun drawn, eyes seething liquid fire in his direction.

_Oh no._

* * *

Kate had never considered herself to be an overly jealous girlfriend in the past. The only boyfriend who had ever cheated on her, back in college, she'd simply kicked out of her apartment and with a, "Don't come back."

She'd never been all that possessive. She valued her own independence and had never felt the need to cling to a man, so in turn she'd never appreciated one clinging to her.

Needless to say, the fury causing her blood to boil within her veins at the sight of that whore straddling Castle, took her by complete surprise. But it was there, fully present and coursing through her body, overwhelming her senses and threatening to erupt at any moment. What the _hell _was going on here?!

She'd smirked when she got Castle's text asking her to come over and keep him company before his date. She knew exactly what he was hoping for. And damn if her pulse didn't race at the thought of leaving him with an impression for the rest of his night.

She didn't _really_ care that he was taking the journalist out. It had seemed like the perfect plan when he'd jokingly said it. It would help get Lanie and the boys off her back about Castle. Funny, how they seemed less interested when they didn't suspect it was her partner that she was sleeping with, she mused.

But the closer it got to time for Castle to go on his date, the more she was regretting her insistence upon it.

The truth was, as much as she tried to play it cool, things were different with Castle. He wasn't just another boyfriend, another man. He was everything. He was _always._

She was confident in his feelings for her. She knew he hadn't even wanted to do this. That it was really her fault. He'd just agreed for her sake, knowing that Lanie and the boys had been persistent lately. But now she was struggling to remember all the reasons she'd told herself it was a good idea in the first place.

Damnit they'd just been through so much and he was finally, _finally_ _hers._ Hers…not some skanky journalist's.

So when he'd texted she was fully prepared to go over and seduce him before his date. Leave a lasting mark on his night. Make sure he knew what he was coming home to afterward. Mark her territory, per se.

But when she got to his door, she tensed immediately. Something was off. And before she could reassure herself that she was being silly, she heard Rick cry out. _Shit._

She grabbed her gun from her shoulder holster where it was still in place, having just left the precinct. Swiftly swinging open the door, gun drawn, she braced herself for whatever awaited inside.

_What the…_

She stood, frozen in place, as she took in the scene in front of her. There was Journalist Whore wearing a scrap of black fabric, straddling Rick. Rick…whose shirt was ripped open and face smeared with bright red lipstick.

Eyes narrowing, her vision almost blurred with rage at the sight.

"What the hell is this?!" she yelled, unable to contain her emotion.

"Beckett…Kate, I can explain," Castle said, scrambling to his feet, practically shoving Kristina Cottera off of his body.

"You. Out. Now!" Kate growled at the journalist. "And take the rest of your clothing with you!"

The woman at least had the sense to look nervous as she retrieved her dress from the bathroom and shuffled out of the door, slamming it behind her.

"Kate, please, it's not what it looks like," Rick pleaded, looking completely miserable.

"What the hell, Castle?" she said, shaking her head incredulously, still furious at the image playing in her mind.

"Kate, I swear, she…she attacked me. She showed up early, right after I texted you. I was making us coffee, see…" he said, frantically pointing toward the kitchen.

"And I didn't know what to do. She asked me to make us a drink before dinner and then disappeared into the bathroom. When she came out, she had that…umm bathing suit on…" he said in a rush.

"And I'm supposed to believe she just planted herself in your lap and ripped your shirt open?" Kate said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Rick grimaced. "Well, um…yeah," he said sheepishly.

"Do you have any idea how angry I am right now?" she asked, rounding on him, pressing a fingertip against his exposed chest.

"Um," he said, nervously, taking a step backwards toward the couch.

"Really angry?" he asked, voice stuttering slightly.

"Extremely, tremendously, exceptionally angry…" she continued, punctuating each word with another push of her finger, successfully backing him up until his legs hit the couch, gracelessly falling on his ass into the cushion.

"I'm sorry, Kate, I swear, I was trying to get her off," he tried to explain, groaning when he realized how that sounded.

"Bad word choice, Rick," Kate warned, eyes flashing.

He grimaced. "I really am sorry," he said, eyes down at the floor avoiding her gaze.

"Do you know why I'm so angry?" she asked, tilting his chin up so that his eyes met hers.

"Because you feel like you can't trust me?" he mumbled, sounding completely heartbroken.

"No!" she said, shocked that he had jumped to that conclusion first. She paused a moment to make sure she accurately conveyed her next statement. Then continued, her voice low, entirely sexy and authoritative, "No, because you're _mine_, Rick."

His eyes widened in surprise. "You're…you're _jealous_," he exclaimed, half question-half statement.

She leaned into him a little more, keeping her hands pressed against his chest, and lowered a knee beside his leg on the couch while letting her eyes roam across his bare chest, then, flickering between his eyes and mouth.

"And…turned on?" he added, blue eyes darkening considerably as she invaded his space, where moments before he'd been pinned against his will.

"You're _mine_, Castle. Not hers. No one else's. _Mine,_" she growled possessively, as she ran her hand along his bicep.

"I'm yours, Kate. I always have been. And I always will be. _Yours._"

He reached out to grip her hips and pull her down to the couch with him, fully prepared to ravage her body, when she stepped backwards out of his reach. Instead she extended her hand to him.

He blinked his eyes in confusion.

"I'm not touching you til you get that lipstick off your face," she said rolling her eyes, pulling him up and towards the bathroom.

He watched her hungrily as she turned the shower to hot and began undressing in front of him.

"You better be coming, Castle," she said tossing her hair over her shoulder, with a look back at him.

He gulped, working quickly to rid himself of his dress pants and boxers, as she grabbed his hand and tugged him into the shower.

"Oh, I'm definitely coming, Kate," he practically growled at her, voice low and rough.

He had absolutely no problem with being _hers._

* * *

_Thoughts?_


End file.
